From the Darkness
by huckelberrie
Summary: Following the Battle of Hogwarts and the end of the war, Hermione searches for someone who understands the lingering pain and fear she feels. In her darkest hour, she finds a kindred soul, someone she can lean on and seek comfort from, someone who understands the lonely darkness all too well. But the question remains, can they walk away from what they have begun?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the greatest, this is her world and these her character. I am just borrowing them.**

Chapter One

Snape swept through the wide corridor, his lank hair shifting in the breeze his long stride created. His pace was quick and without pause, had he still worn teaching robes they too would have billowed behind him. Though he had been exonerated of the heinous crimes he had committed when posing as one of Voldemort's Death Eaters and playing spy for Dumbledore, he was disinclined to prolong any time he spent within the Ministry of Magic, particularly when visiting the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Making his way past the Improper Use of Magic Office, Snape considered the meeting request he had received from one of the departments newest recruits, Auror Potter.

Earlier that very morning, the consumption of his first cup of strong black tea had been interrupted by a tapping at his kitchen window at Spinners End. Glancing up from the copy of the Potionteer Weekly he had been reading he raised a brow at the tawny screech owl staring at him importantly through the glass, an envelope clutched in its beak. He flicked his wand at the window, causing it to creak open a few inches, allowing the bird access to his home. The owl appeared perturbed at this lack-luster greeting, though it nudged the window open further and swooped inside, dropping the envelope in front of the wizard and landing on the back of the chair across from him. Snape took another drag from his morning brew, tossed the bird a crust of his toast, and peered at the green wax seal on the back of the correspondence, depicting the Ministry of Magic's seal. Sliding one long finger under the wax he opened the envelope and pulled out the rather short letter.

_Mister Snape,_

_Your expertise in the subjects of: The Dark Arts is requested in response to a recent crime and/or arrest. Your presence is requested by Auror Harry J. Potter, at the Auror Headquarters today, Friday the 7__th__ of September 2001 at 3:00 in the afternoon. Your knowledge of the above-mentioned subject(s) would be most helpful in assisting the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with a swift prosecution. The Auror Headquarters is located within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the second floor of the Ministry of Magic in London. _

_Sincerely, _

_Victoria Krunkle_

_Undersecretary to Minister Shacklebolt _

Snape paused as he reached the cubicles that made up the Auror Headquarters, denoted by a lopsided sign, and scanned the heads that were visible above the short walls. His lip curled into a sneer as he recognized Neville Longbottom chatting with a middle-aged man dressed in red robes and sporting a long ponytail by a wall depicting posters of wanted dark wizards. Though he had indeed been the one to kill the horrid snake Nagini, Snape held in the shudder that always passed through him when his mind strayed to that monstrous animal, he still held little respect for the young wizard. Continuing his appraisal of the space, Snape noted the unmistakable Weasley hair atop Ronald Weasley's head as he was bent over his desk, scribbling away at one form or another. Snape held in a snort of amusement as he recalled how horrible the boy's handwriting had been in his school days, expecting that his superiors were as exasperated as he had been when trying to decipher it. Moving his eyes further across the room, his eyes narrowed as he did not see the head of messy black hair he was seeking. The hairs on the back of Snape's neck prickled as he sensed someone slowly approaching him from behind, "Professor Snape?" a familiar voice asked. Tensing his shoulders and jerking around brought him face-to-face with the very wizard he had been searching for.

Harry Potter had not changed much in the year-and-a-half since Snape had last seen him. His hair still refused to be tamed and his green eyes, Lilly's eyes, still peered through round black glasses. He was carrying a stack of papers and files but shifted them to the crook of his left arm and cautiously held out his right hand, "Glad to see you sir." Snape peered down his nose at the young wizard's offered hand, quirking an eyebrow in a display of arrogance. Potter furrowed his brow and withdrew the offered hand. "Right," he muttered with a nod. "If you would follow me then," he said with more force as he brushed passed his previous potions professor and made his way through the cubicles, toward a door labeled _Interview Room_. Snape silently followed the boy-who-lived through the loud, bustling open office and was relieved when the door of the room Potter had lead him to shut and cast them into silence. Potter ignored the imposing wizard as he set his load on the polished table and pushed his shaggy black hair out of his face. Snape moved around the table and was about to seat himself when Harry pulled his wand from his arm holster where it had been concealed. The quick movement, along with decades of built-in self-preservation caused Snape to react by drawing his wand on the auror with menace. Surprisingly Harry remained calm, even smiled a bit, as he cautiously held up his hands. "Just calling Ron in for the interview." Snape lowered his wand, but did not return it to his jacket, and nodded. With a whispered _Expecto Patronum_ Harry's silvery stag sprung from the tip of his wand. "Ron, we're in the interview room," he relayed to the patronus before waving his wand, causing the deer to leap through the wall. Potter slipped his wand back in its holster and took a seat at the table, looking up at Snape who still held his wand in his hand, looking uneasy. "Old habits die hard," Harry said with a nod toward the black wand held tightly by the man before him. Choosing not to reply, Snape slid his wand back in his jacket sleeve and gingerly sat in the chair across from him.

The silence between the two men was broken when the door flew open and Ron Weasley rushed into the room. "Sorry Harry! I didn't see you come back, I was finishing my report on…" The redhead trailed off as his gaze landed on the wizard seated at the table with his partner. "Professor," he greeted Snape with a nod before sitting in the chair next to Harry. "I am no longer your professor Mr. Weasley." Snape responded in his typical drawl. Ron reddened slightly and began to backpedal "Right… Sorry Snape…. Er… Sir." Harry loudly cleared his throat, halting his friend's stuttering and fixed Snape with a hard look. "Sir, we have asked you here as you are a forefront authority the Dark Arts and their uses." He withdrew a photo from the pile of papers on the table and handed it to Snape. Glancing at the moving black and white image Snape's eyes narrowed, he looked back up at the young aurors seated across from him, "Explain."

Harry shuffled a few papers in front of him before selecting one and placing it on top. Looking up at Snape he began, "A little more than one month ago we began receiving reports of muggle-born witches and wizards disappearing from different areas, though specifically Knockturn Alley, and reappearing hours later with no recollection of the time that had passed or of what had happened to them." Snape raised his brows but kept silent, allowing the wizard to continue. "There really wasn't much to go on. Healers checked them and none of them showed signs of being obliviated, they just didn't have the memories, but were otherwise healthy. However," Harry sighed, "When one of the wizards who had experienced this memory loss went to visit his parents over this past weekend they immediately became ill when they came into physical contact with him. They are currently at St. Mungo's, but healers are unable to determine what it is they are suffering from as their son does not show symptoms."

Snape drummed his pointer and middle finger on the table as he looked back at the image Potter had handed him. Within the frame was a hospital bed, housing a petite woman in her mid-sixties with a short bob. However, what was significant was the way the woman flailed around, as though she was possessed and how her mouth remained open in a silent scream, a black tongue visible in her mouth. "It is known as Silent Pain, a common torture method used by Death Eaters during both wars." Snape explained, "Though I am uncertain how the curse has been converted so that someone could become a carrier and transfer it to muggles without themselves being affected."

"Exactly," Harry leaned forward, "It's almost acting like a virus." Ron nodded, speaking for the first time, "Yeah, like someone has learned how to control it or has changed it somehow." Snape flicked his black eyes between the two boys, "And you've asked me here because…" Harry opened his mouth to speak but Ron was quicker. "Because, you know all about the Dark Arts, don't ya? Used all sorts of evil curses and such when you were a Death Eater and tortured and killed all those people, yeah?" Harry winced at the dark look that came over Snape's face as Ron spoke. "If anyone has any idea how this evil arsehole is doing this it would be one of his own." Ron continued, either oblivious or purposefully goading the wizard, Harry guessed the latter. "Ron!" Harry cut him off sharply, "Can I talk to you outside for a moment?" he asked, his gaze hard on his friend as he quickly stood and placed a hand on the back of Ron's chair. Ron looked about ready to argue when a tense voice cut through the air. "Thank you, Mr. Potter, but that is not necessary." Snape stated tersely, his knuckles white where his hands gripped the edge of the table. Black eyes snapped to blue ones as he continued, "As I stated, the curse the woman in the image is suffering from is referred to as Silent Pain. I am unaware of it being transferred from wizard to muggle. I do not know how such a feat would be achieved." Snape stared at Ron silently for a few seconds longer before breaking eye contact and flicking his eyes to Harry. "If that is all…" he stood and smoothed his frock coat. Ron scrambled up from the table, sputtering "That's it!? That's all you're going to give us?!" Harry shot the redhead a glare and swept all the papers up from the table as he stood and addressed Snape. "Yes, I think that will be all Sir. You have been most helpful." Ignoring the fuming Ron behind him Harry opened the door and held it open for the other wizard, "If you would just follow me to my desk so I can have you sign a statement regarding the information you have provided, we will be all set."

Leaving behind the angry Weasley, who's face was now nearly as red as his iconic hair, Snape again followed Auror Potter through the cubicles of the Auror Headquarters. This time Neville Longbottom caught the eye of his previous potions professor, though he quickly turned and walked the other way. Weaving toward the rear left corner of the open office Harry stopped at a rather cluttered, messy desk and dropped the papers on top of it. "I'll just need to draw up the statement," Harry addressed Snape as he sat at his desk and pulled a tattered quill and a fresh roll of parchment from one of the drawers. He absentmindedly gestured to a spindly chair placed next to the desk facing him with his left hand as he began to write, "You're welcome to take a seat." Snape arched a brow in his customary manner, but Potter was focused on the parchment in front of him. Glancing around the room through his lank hair Snape caught sight of Mr. Weasley glaring at him from across the office space, along with another half dozen aurors. Snape silently settled into the offered chair, as the wall it was placed against protected his back from unexpected attack and kept a vigilant eye on his surroundings. The minutes ticked by and Potter's quill continued to scratch away. Once Weasley and his fan club had dispersed he relaxed in the slightest and chose instead to observe the memorabilia decorating Potter's cubicle.

The desk it's self was covered in piles of parchment, files and books. Though it appeared, at least to Snape to be complete chaos, Harry did not appear to mind. The walls of the space were covered in photos and the such. Snape's breath hitched when his eyes landed on a photo of Lilly, beautiful as ever, though she was being twirled around by the insipid James Potter. Snape quickly moved his gaze along, passing a photo of the original Order members, to one of the Weasley family at what appeared to be Bill's wedding. Snape's eyes landed on the laughing faces of the twins. Though he would never admit it, he had been a fan of Fred and George's shenanigans and had been sorry to hear of the loss of Fred at the Battle of Hogwarts. He looked next to an image of the youngest Weasley, confidently posing for the camera and blowing a kiss, of course Potter would have fallen for a redhead, together they would look so much like Lilly and James Snape thought with heavy feeling in his chest. His eyes moved to the next image and he smirked, it was a picture of the golden trio. Harry stood to the left and Weasley to the right, both had an arm thrown over the shoulders of the third member of their trio who stood in the middle, Hermione Granger. Brightest witch of her age, in the photo she appeared like any other young woman, happy, laughing and carefree. Her brown eyes sparkled, and her brown curls shone with strands of honey from the sun not seen in the photo. The day it had been taken must have been windy because her hair kept blowing in her face and she kept hooking it back behind her ear with an inaudible giggle. Ignoring the remaining heavy feeling in his chest Snape slid his eyes to the next photo, this one of a toddler with bright turquoise hair who was being swung up into the air by none other than Harry himself, Teddy Lupin he could only presume. Flicking his eyes past more photos, one of Hagrid, another of Ginny Weasley flying in her Holyhead Harpies uniform, Snape's gaze suddenly froze on one photo in particular, a cold feeling spreading in his chest and plummeting into his stomach, the air in his lungs getting sucked out.

In the photo a woman of twenty or so waved at the camera, her smile beaming, as she held an infant, no more than a few months old who she helped to also wave at the camera by taking his little chubby hand and moving it in a waving motion. It was obvious they were laughing together. The baby had the same color hair as the woman though, where hers was full and curly, his was super fine and looked feather soft. They also had the same nose, almost button-like in shape. The infant's eyes were big and shining like the woman's, but where hers were a warm chocolate brown the baby's were very dark. Snape stared, unable to tear his eyes away from the photo of a sublimely happy Hermione Granger holding a little baby boy who was giggling at her. He was so transfixed that he didn't even realize Potter had finished writing and was speaking to him until he felt a parchment brush his hand which was gripping the edge of the desk as Potter slid it over for him to sign. "… just a brief overview of the interview. I didn't find it necessary to include Ron's… uh… comments. If you would just sign at the bottom, confirming that you provided the Auror Department with this information, then you are free to go Sir." Harry paused but Snape did not pick up the quill or respond to him. "Sir?" Harry asked, questioningly. "Are you alright?"

Snape's eyes did not leave the photo, "Who. Is. That?" he asked the young auror. Harry frowned and looked over the edge of his cubicle, uncertain of who Snape was speaking. "Who?" Snape growled and moved faster than most would think humanly possible, ripping the photo from where it was tacked up to the wall and slammed it down on the desk in front of Potter. "THIS!" he hissed jabbing a finger at the baby in the photo. Harry's face went white and he tried to tug the photo from under Snape's finger, but Snape slapped his palm down on it and leaned closer to Harry's face. "Whose child is this, Potter?" Harry drew a deep breath and met the imposing wizard's gaze and calmly stated, "That is Hermione's son, sir." He couldn't breathe, it was like he was under the cruciatus but without the actual pain. "She…" he paused, for once his mind not working with his mouth quickly enough for speech. Potter was watching him with a concerned look. Trying to regain control of himself, Snape cleared his throat and sat back from the desk, removing his hand from the photo. "I was unaware that Miss Granger had married," he stated dryly. Potter's eyes narrowed on the wizard as he reclaimed the photo and harshly responded "She's not married." Snape's eyes snapped up to Potter's green ones, and without thinking he asked, "Who's is it then?" Harry openly glared at Snape as he tucked the photo in the pocket of his robes, "That's none of your business."

Snape abruptly stood and looked down at the boy he had nearly died to help with his mission to defeat the Dark Lord. In a low, menacing voice he hissed out, "Don't. Lie. To Me." Harry also stood and bravely confronted the dark wizard, "It's not my story to tell. Why don't you ask her yourself?... Sir." Snape paused and searched the boy's face, he knew. Potter knew what Snape himself had only just realized moments ago. Potter knew that Hermione Granger had a son. Potter knew that Hermione Granger was a mother. Potter knew that Hermione Granger was the mother of HIS son. Snape stepped back, bent down and quickly signed the paper Potter had presented him regarding his interview, before raising himself to his full height and piercing the young man with a threatening look. "Take me to her, NOW."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the greatest, this is her world and these her character. I am just borrowing them.**

**I do not have an uploading schedule, but I can assure you that uploading everyday is not my plan :)**

Chapter Two

Hermione Granger was having a lovely day so far, she had managed to tame her bushy brown hair into soft curls with a new potion Ginny had sent her from when she was last in Germany for a Quidditch match against one team or another. She had also managed to finish all of the work she needed to get done for the week, and she was currently seated on the floor in the large, bright den on the first floor of 12 Grimmauld Place stacking blocks for her eight month old son to knock down. Though still secret kept, the old Black residence no longer appeared as it had when it had been used as Order headquarters four years prior. It had taken weeks of work and a lot of research on household spells and charms, mostly by Hermione, but the townhouse had slowly lost the aura of darkness and had been updated to suit the tastes of its new occupants. Bright, open rooms with comfortable but modern furnishings, it was obvious that the main occupants of the house were muggle raised.

Following the Battle of Hogwarts and the defeat of Voldemort, Hermione had accepted Headmistress McGonagall's invitation to return to the school and complete her seventh year. Harry and Ron had both chosen to forgo school and move immediately into the auror training program at the Ministry. During those months Hermione's friendship with Ginny had grown into an unshakable bond, as they both supported each other through nightmares and guilt-ridden breakdowns when trying to cope with the loss of so many of their friends and loved ones. Hermione's heat still tightened painfully when she thought of her parents, Jean and Reginald Granger, now and forever to be known as Monica and Wendell Wilkins. She had altered their memories for their own protection and given them new identities before sending them to Australia during the second Wizarding War, but she had still been unable to correct the magic which held her true parent's captive within their own minds. They didn't even know they had a grandson, she thought as she watched the tiny boy sitting in front of her knock over a stack of four blocks and giggle, swinging his big, shining, dark eyes to her face for approval.

"Great job sweetheart!" she exclaimed for him excitedly as he giggled some more and waved his arms in response. Her baby boy was growing so big, already eight months old he was a healthy baby with chubby legs and arms which he had just begun to use to crawl with, much to Hermione's joy. When not giggling he continuously babbled in that way babies do and was interested in everything. Hermione was surprised at how much trouble he could already get into and was glad that Harry had insisted they employ a freed house-elf when her pregnancy had come to light. Winky had left the employ of Hogwarts and was happy caring for a family she could call her own again. Though officially being employed by Harry, Winky had taken a particular shining to the heavily pregnant Hermione when she had met her in late-2000 and had taken it upon herself to assist the new mother in every way possible. Though she predominantly worked from home, Hermione had come to rely on Winky to watch over her son while she worked in the same room.

Hermione was content living at 12 Grimmauld Place, it was just her and Harry for the most part though Ginny did stay with them whenever she had a break from her quidditch team, the Holyhead Harpies. During the renovations Harry had offered Hermione the master bedroom located on the second floor, however she had declined and instead taken the smaller third floor for herself and her son. With a small bedroom acting as a nursery, a larger bedroom for herself, an open loft like area to act as her office and a spacious bathroom with a large clawfoot tub that Hermione was particularly fond of, it was perfect. Though having the nursery on the third floor had given rise to some issues that a first-time mother would not have thought of, they were easily fixed with the addition of a playpen for naps, a basket containing all that was necessary for nappy changes, and a toy chest in the den on the ground floor.

This is where Hermione now sat, smiling as her son tried to reach for a firebolt shaped rattle about a foot to his left, stretching his little arm as far as it could go before realizing he had to crawl over to it and then working his way up onto his knees and making his way over. She heard a flaring noise from the kitchen a few rooms away indicating the floo had activated then a moment later Harry's voice called out, "Hermione?"

"In here," she replied as she pulled her son into her lap, kissing the top of his head and smelling that soft baby smell that he still carried. She smiled as she saw that he had passed over the broomstick rattle for a teether in the shape of a gold crystal phial with the words _Felix Felicis _upon it in raised lettering. "Your Uncle Harry has a predilection for that particular brew as well, little one." She heard Harry's footsteps as he entered the den behind her, "How was work? I got everything I needed to get done for the office already, so we can go to that curry place you like so much for supper if you're up for it."

She heard him shuffle behind her and turned to look over her shoulder at him. Her best friend was standing in the doorway of the open room, sheepishly shuffling his feet. "What's wrong Harry?" Hermione asked, concern tinging her voice. "Is it Ginny?" Harry shook his head. Hermione huffed and subconsciously tightened her hold on her son, whatever was making Harry act like this couldn't be good. "Well then what is it?" Harry lifted his eyes to meet hers and she was surprised by how apologetic he looked, "I'm sorry Hermione." She was really starting to worry now and quickly stood up, pulling her little boy close to her chest as he chewed away at the lucky teether. "What's going on Harry?" she asked in a higher tone then normal, her panic becoming obvious. "What's wrong?" She watched Harry glance behind himself into the shadows of the darker dining room and for the first time she noticed a tall figure standing there. With a heavy sigh Harry stepped aside and the figure moved forward, out of the shadows and into the light. Hermione's breath caught in her lungs and she clutched her son to her breast, so tightly he began to wiggle in an attempt to escape the restrictive embrace. Her eyes were frozen on the face of the man who had just entered the room. He looked the same as the last time she had seen him, tall and slender, his pale skin giving him the appearance of never having seen the outdoors, his long, fine black hair hanging in his face though not obscuring the dominating aquiline nose nor his glittering obsidian eyes. However, unlike last time, today Severus Snape glared at her threateningly from beneath furrowed brows, combined with his dark history and traditional black garb, he was quite the intimidating sight.

"Severus," she breathed out quietly, causing the man she was addressing to visibly flinch. Hermione's eyes shifted to Harry's who was watching the exchange with reserved concern. "How…." she began to ask before she was cut off. "Potter, I believe a few moments alone with Miss Granger would be prudent." Snape's gazed never left Hermione's eyes, "If you wouldn't mind." Harry looked back over to Hermione, not sure if he was comfortable leaving his friend alone with the dark wizard. She nodded to him, "Alright… I'll just be in the kitchen if you need me Hermione." And with that, he quickly left the room. The two stood in silence for a few moments, just staring at each other before the babe in Hermione's arms let out a whining sound and promptly dropped the teether he had been holding. Hermione bent down to retrieve the item and stood up to find that the wizard had moved closer to her where she now had to tilt her face up to make eye contact with him.

Snape looked down at the brunette witch holding his son and was assaulted with emotions he was unaccustomed to and those he was all too familiar with; rage and fear dominated but he also felt protectiveness and an overwhelming sense of warmth whenever he focused on the child. When the woman before him had whispered his given name in that breathy manner he had been temporarily transported back to the last time she had called him that, in a dark room, on a warm April night over a year ago. "Why?" he hissed from between clenched teeth. Hermione's heart tightened and she went to take a step back from the dominating wizard when a large pale, scared and calloused hand darted out, the long fingers wrapping around her upper arm, jerking her back toward him and forcing their eyes to meet again. He leaned down closer, until his hooked nose almost touched hers, "WHY?"

Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears and her son, almost as if sensing his mother's distress, began fussing in her arms. "Please," she whispered out. "Not in front of him," she said flicking her eyes down to the babe in her arms. Hermione could have sworn she saw a look of shame flash across the wizard's face, but it was gone too quickly. He dropped his hand as though he had been burned and she subconsciously rubbed her arm while beginning to sway where she stood, rocking the baby. "I need to put him down for his nap," she quietly replied without looking at him. "Then we can talk." Snape nodded, "Where?" Her eyes jerked sharply to his and he again flinched, this time due to the tears that glazed her cheeks and still filled her warm eyes. "You can stay here," she said decisively, going to step around the tall man. Snape clenched his teeth again, remembering how infuriating this know-it-all could be, "I will remain here, until you return." Hermione nodded as she made her way to the doorway, still softly rocking the baby in her arms. "Miss Granger." Hermione paused at the threshold and turned looking at the dark wizard watching her, "I will be here, no matter how long you take to return."

September 1, 1999

"Some things never change," Hermione muttered as she scanned the crowded tables in the Great Hall, watching her peers gather at their appropriate house tables as the last of them filtered in from the carriages. "What was that?" Ginny asked from beside her, her flaming red hair rippling as she turned to face her friend. "Nothing…." Hermione trailed off as she noticed a scorch mark on a stone along the bottom of the wall near the Gryffindor table. As she stared at the black mark, she swore she could smell smoke and heard screams, as if they were far away. Her sight began to blur, and she quickly closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose and shaking her head softly. "Hermione?" Ginny asked tentatively, "Are you alright?" She forced her eyes open and pushed the memories back into the box she kept them safely locked away inside her mind. She looked back over at the concerned 7th Year and smiled as best she could, "I'm good. Oh look! Professor McGonagall looks like she is going to say something." The newest Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had indeed stood from her chair at the head table, her eyes surveying the students behind her rectangular spectacles. "Welcome," she began, her voice crisp and clear across the now silent hall. "The staff," McGonagall gestured to the professors seated to her right and left, "and I are overjoyed to see the Great Hall once again filled with bright, young minds. This castle has witnessed much sorrow in recent times," her eyes landed on Herimone and softened, causing Hermione to quickly look away, "let us work this year to fill it instead with knowledge, joy, friendship and love." Many students sniffled quietly or wiped stray tears from their eyes as they recalled the Battle of Hogwarts, the fate of many of their friends and that which had occurred within that very hall.

Hermione was not one of them. Instead, her gaze returned to her prior transfiguration professor, dry of tears and with a glazed, cold look that caused a shiver to run down McGonagall's spine. "For now," the older woman said, though in not as crisp of a voice as before, "Let us enjoy a traditional start of term feast!" As she finished her statement, food appeared on the four long tables and the one head table. There were platters of roast meat, dozens of pies, dishes of mashed potatoes, baskets of rolls and so much more. Students chattered while they helped themselves to food and cool pumpkin juice, the clatter of cutlery against dishes rang out and the tension in the hall, from the reminder of the horrible past, eased into a comfortable thrum. Hermione tore her eyes away from the head table and stared down at her empty plate for a moment before gently shaking her head again and forcing a smile on her face. "So what classes are you taking this year Neville?" she asked with false jubilee as she reached for her goblet.

Present

Hermione rocked her son gently as she made her way out of the den and into the kitchen, he had always been a good sleeper and was already beginning to drift off as he nuzzled his face into the crook of his mother's elbow. Upon seeing her, Harry jumped up from where he had sat at the table and rushed over to the woman he considered to be his sister. "I'm so sorry Hermione," he began to say, until he got a good look at her tear streaked face. "What the hell 'Mione?! I knew I should have kept that greasy, bastard away from you and my godson!" he bellowed as he drew his wand and began rush past them to make his way into the den where Snape remained. Before he could get far Hermione caught his arm, "Harry, it's okay. You did the right thing." Harry met her no-nonsense gaze, then sighed deeply and slid his wand back into its holster, running a hand through his already messy black hair. "What did he do to make you cry?" he asked, his emerald eyes meeting her chocolate ones. Hermione shrugged one shoulder, careful to not jostle her son, "He was Snape." Harry's eyes narrowed, "Well you didn't find him to be so Snape-like the last time you spent time with him." Hermione glared at her best friend and then tersely replied, "I'm going to put Reggie down for a nap." She stepped around the auror and made her way to the stairs, then paused. Hermione glanced over her shoulder, looking back at the doorway to the den and then at Harry. "He said he was going to wait," she whispered quietly before turning and beginning her climb to the third floor.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione stood at the edge of her son's crib, still rocking him in her arms rather than laying him down to sleep. 'He's found us,' she thought to herself, her mind dwelling on the dark, overwhelming wizard she had left downstairs. 'What can I tell him? What excuse do I have?' she wondered as she held her son, more for her own comfort than his. Hermione lowered her face to the top of her son's head and inhaled that baby scent again. "I will protect you little lion," she murmured with her eyes still closed.

Behind her a floorboard creaked and Hermione tensed, adrenaline rushing through her body as her fight or flight responses from the war flared. However, as the slight scent of potion herbs, parchment and something distinctly masculine drifted toward her she could not help but slowly relax. Another floorboard creaked, right behind her this time, and she slowly lifted her head and tilted to look over her shoulder. Less than a foot behind her stood Snape, the shadows of the room concealing his dark eyes behind his hair so she could not read his expression. Slowly, as though she was a startled deer, he raised a hand and lightly touched his son's downy, soft brown hair. "There is no need to protect him from me," he hoarsely whispered as he traced his pointer finger down the babe's arm. The baby twitched and whimpered before opening his chubby hand and wrapping five tiny fingers around the offending finger and nuzzling at his mother again in contentment.

Hermione's eyes snapped up to Snape's which were opened wide and fixed on the little hand that clutched his so innocently. "Severus," she began, causing Snape to flinch away from his son and her. Hermione sighed and gently laid the baby in his crib before turning back to the tall wizard in the nursery. She motioned him to follow her as she quietly left the room and shut the door behind her. Hermione pulled her wand from her pocket and with a wave and mummer, set a ward on the nursery so that sound could not enter the nursery but if her son began to cry she would still be able to hear him, it had been one of the many spells Mrs. Weasley had taught her when her pregnancy had come to light. Sliding her wand back into her pocket, she took a deep breath and turned to the wizard standing behind her. Warm brown eyes met cold black ones and, for a few moments, they just stared at one another. Snape snapped out of it first and tore his eyes away, clenching his teeth and fists again. "Why?" he questioned quietly. Hermione sighed and was about to answer when a there was a loud _CRACK _and Winky appeared holding a tray loaded with a steaming tea pot, milk, sugar, two cups, and a plate of biscuits. "Thank you Winky," Hermione said in a warm voice as the elf set the tray on a table in front of a comfortable mauve love seat. "If Mistress needs anything else, she only need to call for Winky," the elf replied while giving Snape a pointed glare, then with a nod she disapparated from the room.

Hermione turned back to Snape and gestured for him to sit as she took a seat on the couch. Snape stalked over and sat in a matching overstuffed armchair across the table from the love seat. He leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands steepled and level with his mouth as he watched the brunette witch prepare the tea. Pouring the brew into a cup and adding a splash of milk she held the saucer out to him. Snape raised his brow and was about to comment when she said "It's the afternoon, I remember that you take milk later in the day. Just take the tea Severus." He met her gaze and was surprised by flash of warmth he saw in them when his fingers brushed hers as he silently accepted the drink. After all, she was right, he did take milk in his tea once morning had passed. Hermione quickly made her own tea, two splashes of milk and one sugar, before leaning back on the couch and taking a sip, her eyes meeting those of the dark wizard seated across from her. "Why?" he asked again. Hermione's eyes hardened and she snapped "Because I didn't want to see you again, that's why."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the greatest, this is her world and these her character. I am just borrowing them.**

**Thank you so much for taking the time to read my first story! **

Chapter Three

December 31, 1998

Hermione tipped her head back and swallowed a large swig of the burning drink, enjoying the warmth that spread throughout her body as the Firewhiskey settled in her stomach. She set the glass back on the bar top and motioned to Aberforth to refill the glass. The Hogshead was not typically where someone would expect to find any Hogwarts student, especially on New Year's Eve and especially if that student was Hermione Granger, which was exactly why Hermione had made the trip to the bar, with her own _clean_ glass.

Aberforth eyed the young witch but refilled the glass and returned to the corner of the bar where he wiped out glasses with a dirty, old rag. Hermione had spent Christmas with the Weasleys and Harry, as her parents were still in Australia under the memory charm she had placed on them. The Weasleys were welcoming, as always, and reuniting with Ron and Harry for a few days had been heartwarming. However, Ginny still had to wake her up every night due to her night terrors and the others had wondered why Hermione cast a silencing charm on the room they shared every night. In the mornings, though she glamored the dark circles that had become a permanent fixture under her eyes, she still received looks of concern when she came down for breakfast. She had planned to remain at the Burrow through the new year but had overheard Ginny, Harry and Ron discussing her the night before.

"She barely ever sleeps, and when she does, she always ends up screaming until she wakes up or until I wake her up," Ginny had whispered behind the partially closed door of Ron's bedroom. "What is she dreaming about?" Ron asked quietly. "The war of course, you dolt!" Ginny had barked out while swatting the back of her brother's head. Ron exclaimed and dramatically rubbed his head, "I know the war! What I meant was, well… what part? Does she tell you what it is specifically that is giving her nightmares?" Ginny sighed and shook her head. "Maybe I should talk to her," Harry said softly. "I mean, I know what it is like to have dreams and nightmares that you just can't get away from."

"No!" exclaimed Ginny, "She didn't want me to tell you! The only reason I even know is because she forgot to set a silencing spell around her bed one night at the beginning of term and I walked up to the dorm room to see her thrashing around her fourposter and screaming." At that Hermione had turned from Ron's door and quietly made her way back to the kitchen to let Mrs. Weasley know she would be returning to Hogwarts the next day via the Knight Bus. When the matriarch had questioned her early departure, Hermione stressed that she wanted to make sure all her schoolwork was caught up prior to the start of the next term.

So here she was, on New Year's Eve, drinking whiskey alone at a dirty pub. Hermione closed her eyes as she ran her finger around the rim of her glass and glanced at the clock behind the bar that read 11:56. "Four minutes," she muttered to herself and lifted the glass of amber liquid to her lips. Before she could take a sip the door behind her swung open, loudly slamming against the wall as winter wind blew into the pub, swirling snow through the dark, dank space. Hermione had jumped at the loud noise and yanked her wand out of her robes, whipping around to face the intruder out of self-preservative habit. A tall, slim figure in long heavy black robes stood in the doorway, the shadows obscured the individuals face until he stepped inside. Severus Snape, entered the pub and forcefully pushed the door shut, blocking the winter wind. He wore a long, heavy black cloak and a thick black scarf was wrapped around his neck. Without looking about the room Snape strode through the bar and over to the corner where Aberforth was filling two glasses with a bright green liquid from a dusty bottle.

"You're late," Aberforth grunted as Snape seated himself at the far end of the bar. "It's a longer trip this year," Snape muttered in a husky voice, so unlike the voice he had used the last time Hermione had been taught by him. He began to unravel the scarf from around his neck but paused when he noticed Hermione standing by the bar, her wand still drawn. The look earned a glance from the bar keeper in her direction who loudly cleared his throat pointedly. Hermione jumped and quickly stowed her wand and returned to her bar stool, her cheeks flushing bright red, though it was barely visible in the low light of the pub. She heard Snape and Aberforth muttering quietly in the corner for a moment then silence fell. She looked up at the clock again just as the minute hand clicked over to the 12. "Happy New Year Hermione," she whispered to herself and downed the rest of the Firewhiskey in her glass. Lowering the empty cup from her face she glanced over at the two men in the corner, Aberforth was again wiping out a bar glass with the dirty mug and Snape was sipping his green drink. Hermione took a good look at him. Snape was still pale and thin, though he had less of a skeletal look to him as though he had finally had a few decent meals. He still dressed in all black, though he no longer wore his long teaching robes and instead sported a long black frock coat and black trousers. The frock coat buttoned all the way up his chest and throat, covering his Addams apple. Hermione's eyes ran over the edge of his collar and her breath caught. Above the edge of the collar, licking up his neck, under his jaw line and behind his ear were thick, silvery scars. The damage Nagini had caused to the man seated at the other end of the bar was clearly visible from so far away, even in such low light. Hermione unconsciously raised her hand to her mouth in shock and moved her eyes to the face of the man she was scrutinizing. Upon reaching his face her eyes met his narrowed black ones, glaring at her as he held an empty glass. Hermione felt her cheeks redden for a second time and she quickly turned away, leveling her eyes at the wooden bar top.

Glancing at her empty glass, Hermione decided it was time for her to return to the castle. With a whispered "Tergeo," she cleaned her glass and quickly tucked it into her beaded handbag. Then she donned her winter cloak and pulled on the knitted golden colored hat and gloves the Weasleys had gifted her for Christmas that year. Wrapping her stripped Gryffindor scarf around her neck, she dug two sickles out of her pocket and set them on the bar, then started for the door. She had just wrapped her fingers around the handle when a horse, gravelly voice right next to her said, "You should not be traveling alone so late, Miss Granger."

Hermione turned around to face the person who had spoken, inadvertently swinging her beaded bag and striking them right in the stomach. Snape let out an audible gasp as the handbag struck him and grabbed at Hermione's arm, his long fingers easily encircling her mitten clad wrist. "Merlin's beard, what are you carrying in that bloody bag witch?" Hermione winced as his voice grated out. "Sorry Professor Snape," she whispered. His eyes snapped to hers and he released her hand. "I am no Professor, Miss Granger." Hermione gazed at him but did not respond, just gave him a quick nod before opening the door and stepping out into the blustery winter night.

Hermione made her way through Hogsmead swiftly, the streets were void of people and the snow had not become too deep as to impede her return to the castle. Behind her, she could hear the sound of snow being crushed under Snape's boots, but she chose to ignore him. She walked quickly through the village and came around the corner of the path to the castle by the Shrieking Shack before Snape made any noise. When the shack came into view, illuminated by the large waxing moon filling the night sky he didn't say anything, only made a soft strangling noise in his damaged throat before clearing it and continuing to follow her. Hermione turned and stared at the man behind her. "You don't need to follow me sir," she stated coolly. Snape's head snapped up from where it had been fixed on the snow-covered road. "You should not be traveling alone so late," he repeated in that husky voice. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she retorted, "That's none of your business, as you said, you are no longer my professor and therefore are not responsible for me." Snape's eyes glinted in the moon light as he strode closer to Hermione and looked down at the witch. "You truly are a little know-it-all aren't you," he rasped before grabbing her upper arm in a tight grip and quickly turning on the spot. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the familiar pressure of side-along apparition. The feeling stopped quickly enough, however Hermione could not help but sagging as the world righted itself.

Feeling the witch beside him begin to slump over, Snape quickly pulled her to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to keep her upright. "Stubborn girl," he whispered as he pulled out his wand. Hermione's nose was pressed against the buttons of Snape's frock coat and when she breathed in she could smell potion herbs and fresh parchment mixed with the freshness of the snowy night. She tried to right herself but lost her balance as her head continued to spin. Snape grunted and tightened his hold on her while he waved his wand, causing a slivery shape to appear. "Headmistress, I apologize for the late hour, but please send someone to the front gate to retrieve an ill student." After a moment he added, "It is Miss Granger," and then waved his wand, causing the glowing figure to dart through the gate and up the path to the castle. Hermione murmured, "I'm fine, I can walk," into Snape's frockcoat and tried to shrug off his arm again. Snape scoffed and took a short step away from the witch. Hermione swayed where she was standing for a second before dropping to her knees in the snow. Snape sneered, "You are not fine. You are drunk." Hermione shook her head, which caused her to unbalance further and begin to tip over into the snow. However, the retired potions professor was quicker and scooped Hermione up and out of the snow, one arm supporting her shoulders and another underneath her jean clad knees. Hermione moaned from the quick movement and unconsciously buried her head in Snape's chest. "For the love of Merlin, don't you dare get sick on me witch," Snape muttered as he carried the girl closer to the gate.

A moment later he noticed a lantern light exit the castle and begin bobbing down the path, as though the person carrying it was hurrying down to the gate. Snape shifted the witch in his arms, causing her to moan again and place her palm on his chest. Flinching at the contact, Snape looked down at the woman in his arms, her bushy brown hair was damp from the snow and her nose was slightly red from the cold. Snowflakes clung to her eye lashes and her lips were slightly parted, so puffs of her breath warmed his chest. The sound of someone hurrying through the snow grew louder and Snape looked up to see a disheveled woman in a tartan bathrobe, boots, and a heavy winter cloak approach the gate. Professor McGonagall's eyes widened as she took in the scene before her. "Severus, I didn't realize…."

"I think getting Miss Granger up to the castle is a bit more pressing Headmistress," he quickly said, stepping up to the gate. McGonagall's eyes narrowed on the wizard, but she nodded and waved her wand at the gate, causing it to creak open. "Of course, are you able to carry her the rest of the way Severus?" Snape hesitated and flicked his eyes over the castle, pausing at the astronomy tower before clearing his throat and muttering, "Of course."

Stepping through the gate and onto the school grounds, Snape followed McGonagall along the path, his back ramrod straight and the knuckles of his clenched hands white. They had almost made it to the door when Hermione shifted in his grip and snaked her hand up and around his neck. "It's ok," she muttered, softly squeezing his neck for a moment before dropping her hand back down to his chest. Snape stopped in the snow and stared down at the witch in his arms, stunned that in her unconscious stupor she had sensed his distress and had offered him a kindness. "Severus?" he heard McGonagall call from the doorway a few meters away. He tore his gaze from Hermione and quickly crossed space to the threshold of the school.

Standing in the entry hall Snape suppressed a shudder, as he looked around the space. The last time he had seen the inside of the castle it had been in ruins, right before the Dark Lord had called him to the Shrieking Shack. The girl in his arms murmured as the candlelight from the sconces hit her face, and she turned into his chest, trying to avoid the light. "The hospital wing would be best I think," McGonagall whispered before she swept down the hall. Snape sighed and followed the woman through the castle. As they got closer, Hermione began twitching and murmuring more. Snape glanced down and noticed that her eyes were moving erratically beneath her eyelids as though she were watching something. By the time they entered the hallway that lead to the hospital wing Snape was finding it difficult to hold the witch, as she was obviously trapped in the thralls of a nightmare. Hermione began muttering in a panicked whisper, "No. No! Leave him alone! Stop! No!" Her hands clutched at Snape's clothes and she was breathing heavily. He gently shook the witch in his arms and when that didn't help, he shook her harder. She continued to thrash and whisper hoarsely, "No. No. No." Not knowing what to do, Snape tightened his grip and bent his head low towards the witch in his arms and buried his nose in her bushy hair until his mouth was right next to her ear. "It's ok," he whispered, "It's ok." Hermione stiffened in his arms and then began to slowly relax, her legs once again dangled over his arm and her hands rested against his chest again. "It's ok Hermione, you're ok," he murmured as she quieted and let out a contented sigh. He breathed in, she smelled of cold winter air, lavender and something familiarly sweet and spicy. 'Tonka maybe?' Snape considered. When she once again rested in his arms Snape looked up and saw McGonagall staring at them, slack jawed. "What?" he barked as he swiftly walked past her and into the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was bustling around a bed at the far end of the room but stopped as Snape neared. "Severus. As I live an breathe, you look well," she exclaimed. He stopped, surprised at the witch's appraisal, before replying, "As do you Poppy." McGonagall entered the room behind Snape and called to the mediwitch." Madam Pomfrey, made her way around the bed as she instructed the wizard in front of her, "You can just lay her down there," before hurrying across the room to the Headmistress.

Snape glanced at the women by the hospital wing door before striding over to the empty bed that Madam Pomfrey had prepared. He gently lowered the witch he was holding down onto the crisp white sheets and slid his arms from beneath her. Glancing down at her his gazed narrowed on her wet cloak and boots and then turned to the women whispering at the opposite side of the room. 'It won't do to leave her in these wet things,' Snape thought to himself. He sighed and moved to the end of the bed. He quickly untied and pulled off both of Hermione's boots, setting them quietly on the floor, before moving up to the clasp of her cloak. He unhooked the heavy fabric and then carefully lifted her legs to tug it out from under them. He then gently lifted her by the shoulders and pulled the rest of the cloak out from under her. As he lowered her back to the mattress he heard her softly whisper, "Thank you sir." His eyes darted to hers, which were barely open but were focused on his face. He softly removed his arm and said, "Sleep Miss Granger." She nodded but still tried to sit up. He placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down, "Sleep." She struggled and gasped, "My wand. I need my wand." Snape pushed the witch back down again, "You are at Hogwarts. You are safe." The news did not deter Hermione who again tried to sit up. "I need my wand," she exclaimed. Snape sighed and searched the cloak he had removed from the witch, pulling an intricately carved vine wood wand from one of the pockets. He glanced up to see Hermione sitting up in the hospital bed, watching him with apprehension. With a huff he rose and returned to the bedside, thrusting the wand toward the witch. "Thank you sir," she quietly breathed as she plucked the wand from his hand and looked up to meet his dark gaze. "Thank you for everything." Snape regarded the witch for a moment before giving her a quick nod and sweeping away, between the rows of beds and quickly out the doors of the hospital wing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the greatest, this is her world and these her character. I am just borrowing them.**

**Reviews are always appreciated! Please let me know your thoughts on this take on a classic FanFiction pairing.**

Chapter Four

Snape stared at the brunette witch sitting across the table from him as her chocolate eyes glared at him, glittering in anger. He met her gaze as he took a mouthful of the tea he was holding, seemingly unaffected by her outburst. Severus Snape was nothing, if not cool and composed when he wanted to be. He had, after all, been a double agent to the Dark Lord for over a decade. "What is his name?" Snape quietly asked before raising the teacup to his lips again.

Hermione did a doubletake, surprised that the wizard had allowed her to snap at him with no retaliating comment. "His name?" she whispered as she processed the question. "Yes, his name." Snape snapped, "You had called him Reggie," Snape's voice curled around the name as if it were an unappealing taste, "when you spoke to Potter in the kitchen."

"Oh, yes," Hermione's brain was quickly catching up to the wizard's question. "Yes, Reggie is a nickname. It's what my mum called my dad, before..." Hermione looked up to see Snape staring at the door to the nursery. She knew what he saw there. In keeping with the Black tradition, when Reggie had been born Harry had affixed a small plaque to the center of the door with her son's full name. "Regulus Severus Snape," Snape hissed out as he read the door. His obsidian eyes snapped to Hermione's in shock. "You gave him my name?" Hermione met the dark wizards gaze and gave him a quick nod, "He's your son, he should have your name." Snape's face paled slightly at the comment. "And Regulus?" he further questioned. Hermione sighed and looked down at the cup clutched in her hands. "I learned that you had been close with him at Hogwarts, that he had been your friend."

**November 27, 2000**

"Wingardium leviosa," Hermione whispered as she swished and flicked her wand at the crib she had just finished putting together and moved it across the nursery, setting it down against the center of the far wall. With a deep sigh she shuffled over to a plush light grey rocker in the corner by at window and plunked down into it.

Her gaze shifted to the window, still devoid of curtains or blinds, allowing the afternoon sun to stream into the room and over the round bump that made up her abdomen. She absentmindedly rubbed her hand over it as she watched the sun shrink below the buildings surrounding 12 Grimmauld Place. Hermione turned and surveyed the room she sat in. It had taken a lot of hard work to clean up the third floor of the four-story town house, but it had been worth it. The walls had been repainted a creamy, marshmallow color and the wooden floors had been polished to a dark brown shine. The light spilling through the cleaned window showed a shag rug of light grey in the middle of the floor, a set of dark wood furniture that included a chest of drawers, an already filled bookcase, a side table, the crib Hermione had just finished, and the rocker with matching ottoman she now sat in. "It's almost ready for you little lion," she muttered as she continued to rub her abdomen in slow circles.

"Hermione? Are you still down here?" a masculine voice called from the stairs leading down to the level of the nursery. "In here Harry," she called out to her friend and housemate. Harry appeared in the doorway; his brow furrowed as he gazed at the top page of a pile of old parchment. "What's wrong Harry?" Hermione questioned. The young man shook his head slowly as he continued starting at the parchment he held, his shaggy black hair sweeping the top of his glasses. "This letter…." Harry looked up at his friend, his emerald eyes shining behind the glasses as he explained, "I found this letter in Regulus's room and it's from my mum."

Hermione's eyes widened as she took in the crestfallen look upon her friend's face. "What does it say?" she softly asked. Harry's brow furrowed as he scanned the letter again, "It talks about my dad and Sirius." Hermione's face softened as she watched her dearest friend read the letter. Harry had never been any good at concealing his feelings, so every emotion played across his face as he read, surprise, frustration, anger, and sadness. When he reached the end of the letter his brows narrowed behind his glasses and he barked out, "Fucking Snape!" Hermione jumped at the harsh exclamation, "Professor Snape?" she questioned. Harry thrust the pile of parchment toward her, not meeting her eyes. "It's about Snape," he muttered.

Hermione took the pages and glanced down, her gaze landing on the willowy signature at the bottom of the page before moving to the top and beginning to read.

_December 27, 1977_

_Dearest Regulus,_

_Happy Christmas! I am writing to you as a friend. Your brother was at the Potter's when I visited James for the holiday yesterday and conveyed some alarming news regarding your plans for the week before we all return to Hogwarts. I understand you come from a long line of proud purebloods but I beg you, don't sully your reputation by associating with Severus Snape. He has proven to be a most vile wizard, and supports groups who have no place in the modern magical community. Severus has proven that he is consumed by darkness, through his treatment of me personally and by his horrid treatment of your brother and his friends. Why just before the Christmas break I caught him noting unknown curses in his textbook, surely to be used on James and Sirius when we return. I am ashamed that I spent so much of my time with such a dark wizard, though it was prior to his showing his true colors and becoming infatuated with Lucius and Bellatrix. I know she is your family but they are not the sort of people a sweet boy like you should be associating with. I beg you, for your own safety, stay away from Severus Snape. _

_Your Friend,_

_Lily Evans_

_P.S. Sirius mentioned you had received a missive from Severus requesting the use of your house elf to test a new potion. Please do not assist him with any dark magic tasks, they surely come from others beyond him with wicked intentions._

Hermione finished reading and raised her eyes back to her friend, "The potion… the potion in the cave." Harry scoffed, "We knew Regulus gave Voldemort Creature to test it on. Now we know who created the torturous potion." He ran is hand through his disheveled hair and grimaced. "How could the same man who created that poison have turned spy? Every time I find myself beginning to appreciate what he did to help us defeat Voldemort another horrible piece of his past comes to light." He sighed and finally glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the crib. "Wow 'Mione, this looks like a proper nursery and everything." Hermione smiled as she looked around the bright, clean room, "Do you think he will like it?" "Of course," Harry whispered, "It's leaps and bounds better than any room I can remember having." She smiled softly at her friend, "Thank you for opening your home to me Harry." Harry jerked up and waved her thanks off, "None of that Hermione, that's what you do for family. I'm almost finished upstairs, want to try the curry place around the corner?" "That sounds great Harry," she said, raising the pile of parchment to return to the wizard. He shook his head sharply, "I can't. Will you get rid of them for me?" "Of course," she responded softly as Harry left the room.

Hermione shuffled through the pile of parchment, most of which appeared to be History of Magic notes on Urg the Unclean and the goblin rebellions of the 18th century. However, her eyes locked on the spikey scrawl of a letter mixed in the bunch. Her heart squeezed as she recognized the handwriting, it had often criticized her from her marked assignments though her school years.

_August 8, 1977_

_Regulus,_

_The heat in the repulsive hell hole my patriarch keeps my mother and I in is unyielding this summer. The stench from the river seeps into every corner of Spinners End, coating my world in an oppressive layer of muck. I cannot believe I once looked forward to these holidays, a time when I would have her attention all to myself. One slip, just one, and she's gone. No matter how many times I apologize, it matters naught. I even went to her house at the beginning of summer break to see if talking without pathetic, pretty-boy Potter whispering in her ear would help. But, when she finally came to the door, she slammed it in my face without a word. They've turned her completely against me; Potter, Remus, your brother, even that slime Pettigrew, are her world now. A bright shiny new Gryffindor world for her, no room for the embarrassing Slytherin of her past. _

_To keep myself busy, and to gather funds, I've taken a muggle job at a local pub. The work is menial, honestly an idiot could do it, but the hours keep me busy and the muggle beer isn't so bad. Though it's no fire whiskey. I amuse myself during slow nights by doing little spells to keep the drunkards entertaining._

_Lucius has also been writing me, for having only graduated a few years ago he seems to have already moved up the ranks in support of his new lord. His letters are full of pride and purpose, perhaps joining the cause will give me the very credence I have been searching for. Slughorn seems to think that I will become a nameless potioneer for one of the large London producers. If only he knew I had improved the majority of the potions he spouts off about during his lectures. You know I have even created a few of my own. _

_Which reminds me, how is your supply of that Morning Fresh potion? I have a few more bottles here if you need more. I know Black is prone to pilfering your supply when you are forced to cohabitate. If only he knew it was a Severus Snape original. _

_I plan to make my way to the Leaky Cauldron the last week of August, to purchase my new supplies and give time for me to return to the wizarding life I truly belong in. _

_Severus Snape_

Hermione clutched the letter, the tears filling her eyes blurring the page. "He was so alone," she whispered. Thinking back to her third year when Harry and Ron had shunned her after reporting his new Firebolt to McGonagall. She too had felt like she had been abandoned by her only friends. However, they had reconciled that same school year where Lily seemed to never forgive Snape. 'Who could he have been if she could so easily discard him?' Hermione pondered as she wiped her eyes and set the letters aflame, leaving them floating in front of her, the falling embers and ash disappearing before reaching the floor.

**Present**

Severus Snape scoffed at the petite witch in front of him, "I wouldn't say we were close." The cup in her hand clinked as she set it back in the saucer and caught his eyes. "He was your only friend at Hogwarts after your… falling out with Lily," she stated sharply. At the mention of his old friend's name Snape's eyes flared ever so slightly and his jaw tightened. "But," Hermione continued, "He was also an unappreciated hero, another man who realized he had made mistakes and did what he could to stop Voldemort." At this Snape sneered and barked out, "Don't you dare compare me to him! He came to that decision of his own volition. Regulus Black was the only Death Eater I ever knew to go against the Dark Lord, knowing what fate awaited him."

The anger in his voice startled Hermione and out of habit she checked that the sound proofing charm was still active on the nursery. Reassured that her son was sleeping soundly, she turned back to the irritated wizard. "You're wrong Severus. You did too…." she was cut off by Snape slamming his cup and saucer down on the table and standing up abruptly. "I did no such thing Miss. Granger," he bit out, his black eyes blazing in anger. Hermione stood up, though she was still forced to look up at the tall man, and exclaimed, "You did! You realized…." she broke off with a gasp as Snape grabbed her upper arms and gave her a little shake. "No! You foolish girl!" Snape gave her another little shake, not realizing how tightly his long fingers were wrapped around her arms. "Enough of this nonsense, I was a Death Eater. I remained a Death Eater." Hermione loudly interjected "No you were a spy for the order…"

"I WAS A DEATH EATER!" Snape bellowed in her face, losing his normally composed demeanor as he unconsciously gave the witch in his hands another little shake. "I followed the Dark Lord's orders! I tortured and killed for him! I…" he broke off, finally seeing the woman he held. His knuckles were white where they gripped her arms and her soft curls has fallen in her face from his shakes. Her eyes were concealed but he could see her biting her trembling bottom lip. A wave of shame crashed over him as he recalled seeing similar situations between his mother and the drunk that had been his father. He released Hermione as though it burned and took a step back, shaking his long black hair out of his face. Hermione just stood there, the curls in front of her face moving as she exhaled. Snape knew the young witch well enough to realize she was trying to compose herself. "Miss. Granger…." he began in a quieter voice. At her name she jerked her eyes up to glare at him, her curls bouncing back to reveal her chocolate eyes full of barely held tears and two rosy spots on her cheeks. "Don't 'Miss. Granger' me _Severus_," she snapped, his name spit from her lips sharply. "You certainly didn't call me that the last time we saw each other." The embarrassed look that crossed his face at her words brought a sick twist of triumph to her as she lifted her hands and roughly pushed the menacing wizard in the chest as she continued, "You know nothing! My son is not the son of a Death Eater!" The tears finally coursing down her cheeks as she shouted at him, as she continued to shove him in the chest.

Snape wasn't moving, her shoves barely made him sway, but the anger and sadness radiating off her hit him like a ton of bricks. He had never had a woman yell at him like this before. His mother had been a quite little thing and Lily, well Lily had just ignored him. He didn't know what to do, so he just did what he wanted to do. With her next push he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, his other hand wrapping around her waist and his chin resting on her head. "No!" she said muffled against his black frock coat, but his arms remained around her as she hit him a few more times then dropped to her sides in defeat.

A few seconds later they heard quick footsteps coming up the stairs from the second floor. "Hermione!?" called Harry as he rushed up to the third floor. "I heard yelling," he declared as he came to an abrupt halt at the top of the stairs, his eyes widening at the sight of his friend being held by the potion master. "Just an argument Potter," Snape explained evenly, "She's alright now." Harry glanced at the wizard before looking back at the side of Hermione's face he could see. "You ok 'Mione?" he asked. "Potter…" Snape began to bark out but stopped as Hermione quietly spoke against his chest, "I'm ok Harry. I got carried away. You can go back downstairs." Harry paused, unsure, until Hermione turned her face toward him and gave a little smile, jerking her chin toward the stairs. "I'll be ok, go Harry."

Hermione rested her head against Snape's chest as Harry made his way back downstairs, noticing how he had tensed at Harry's appearance and had not moved since. Taking a deep breath, she slowly pushed away from him, meeting the arms he had locked around her. Looking up at the tall wizard who was gazing into space she pushed against his hold whispering, "Let me go Severus." At her voice the dark wizard refocused and quickly released the witch, uncomfortable that he had been caught holding her by Potter. Hermione made to walk back around the table when Snape spoke. "Miss…," he started. She had stopped but hadn't turned to face him, she just let his voice hold her in place. He sighed, "You and the boy have nothing to fear from me. Death Eater or not." She turned and looked at him. "I know."

Snape turned from her and took his seat again, trying to appear as unthreatening as possible. Hermione too tried to appear calm, pulling a band from her wrist and securing her curls back from her face, as best as possible. In doing so her comfortable sweater slid off of one shoulder and revealed the top of her arm where Snape had now grabbed her twice. Snapes eyes latched onto the bruise already forming there and cursed under his breath as he reached into his jacket pocket. Hermione followed his gaze, and seeing the mark sighed. "It's ok. It is probably from when I bumped into the doorframe earlier today." Snape just huffed as he pulled a jar from his pocket, taking a light hold of her wrist and gently pulling her to stand between his knees in front of him. She looked down at the wizard, though not very far down as he was only a few inches shorter than her while sitting, as he unscrewed the lid of the jar revealing a thick blue paste. "You still carry Bruisewort Balm?" she questioned quietly as Snape scooped some of the paste out. "Old habits and all," he relied with a twitch to the side of his mouth, on anyone else it would have been a smirk. He set the jar on the table then reached up and tugged her sweater down farther, exposing the whole mark. He cursed again and lightly swiped the balm onto her skin. Hermione observed him as he rubbed the potion into her arm. His jaw was clenched, and his brow furrowed as he focused on his task of massaging the paste into her damaged skin. Realizing he was being watched he looked up suddenly, bringing his face within a few inches of hers. Knowing she was caught, Hermione smiled faintly and whispered, "Thank you Severus." Snape looked away as he removed his hand from her skin and pulled her sweater back up her arm. "You're welcome," he muttered wiping the excess potion on a napkin with the tea service.

Without thinking, which only seemed to happen around this particularly enigmatic wizard, Hermione cupped his face and pulled it back up so that she could meet his gaze. Looking over his pale face, she took in the high forehead, the obsidian eyes, the dominating nose, his lips pressed together and the light stubble that covered his sharp chin. As she ran her eyes over him the wizard held his breath, obviously uncomfortable with the perusal, his gaze locked on the witch hovering above him. "Severus," she whispered, her eyes locking on his and her hand dropping away, "say my name." He kept her gaze as he reached up and pulled the band out of her hair, causing the curls to bounce free around her head and shoulders. Tossing the tie aside he kept moved his eyes to her curls as he rubbed the end of one between his thumb and forefinger as he rasped out, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I don't care," the brunette witch murmured, raising her hands to rest on his shoulders. His hand moved up through her hair, running his fingers through the soft curls until they reached the back of her head and fisted, almost but not painfully. Snape stood, towering over her, and turned her face up, causing Hermione to pull in a sharp breath, and glared at her. "Why?" She closed her eyes, her hands sliding down to his chest as she choked out, "Because I want to hear you say it again." She felt him shift but kept her eyes closed, his scent permeated her nostrils, potion herbs, parchment, and masculinity. "Why?" he whispered hoarsely in her ear causing her to jump. His hand landed on her hip, steadying her, as he asked again, "Why?" She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, refusing to recall the last time she had been this close to the wizard holding her now. "Please," she sighed softly. She felt a puff of air across her lips before he whispered, in a gravely voice that reminded her of when he was still recovering from Nagini's attack, "As you wish…. Hermione."

Her eyes flew open, but the ex-spy moved too quickly, dropping his hold of the witch and stepping behind the chair before she had focused on him. When she did meet his gaze he was clutching the back of the chair as he gazed down at the woman that had just been in his arms, his face puzzled. "Sever…." she began before being interrupted by a loud wailing cry from the nursery behind her. The wizard winced at the noise and looked at the door in alarm, "Is he alright?" Hermione chuckled under her breath as she removed the sound charm and made her way into the nursery where her happy son was sitting up, screaming for attention.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the greatest, this is her world and these her character. I am just borrowing them.**

Chapter Five

"Did you have a good nap little one?" she murmured as she lifted her son from the crib. His silky brown hair was tousled, and his onesie was soaked in drool, but he happily babbled to her as she brought him over to the changing table. Setting him down she caught a glance of movement in the doorway and jerked to look, her hand twitching with the need to reach for her wand. Snape leaned there, his shoulder against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes on her inquisitively. She forced her muscles to relax as she turned back to her son, stripping him out of his wet clothes and handing him a cauldron shaped teether to entertain himself while she changed his nappy. She spoke as she pulled a clean set of clothes out of a drawer and began dressing the giggling infant, "So, now what?" She didn't look at him but heard him take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What are you referring to?" Hermione snapped up the onesie and began feeding his chubby feet through the legs of the matching trousers, "Now that you know… about Reggie I mean." She finished dressing him and hoisted her son onto her hip, turning to look at the wizard watching her. "What is this," she gestured between the two of them, "going to look like? What are your expectations?"

Snape's obsidian eyes flickered to the jabbering baby then back to her, "I don't know. I've only just learned I even have a son." Hermione's cheek warmed as she looked away from him, "Oh, right, of course…" She looked around the nursery, uncertain of what to say. Her eyes glanced over the tall man more than once before she blurted out, "Would you like to hold him?" Snapes eyes widened as a rare look of surprise, or maybe fear, flashed across his face before he shuttered closed his face and eyes again. Straightening he crossed the small space between himself and her, his hands dangling limply at his sides. She lifted her son from her hip and held him out to Snape, who raised his hands in a hesitant manner but did not take him. His eyes snapped to hers as he gruffly muttered, "Does it matter how I take him? I thought I had to do something with his head?" Hermione bit back a smile, "Before he could hold up his head on his own yes." She shifted the baby in her arms so that he was facing her, with one arm beneath his bum and the other supporting his back. "If you hold him like this, he will be able to see you, ok?" Snape glanced over the way she held the boy and gave a curt nod. When Hermione held the babe out to him again, he confidently scooped him out of the air, arranging his arms as she had moments prior.

Hermione's heart ached as she took in the image of her son being held by his father for the first time. A moment later Regulus's gaze locked on the face of the man who held him, and his pudgy hands rose to Snapes face, patting along his scruffy cheek, grasping at his nose, and running over the man's eyelids. To her surprise Snape accepted the appraisal without complaint, watching the baby's face during the examination. Reggie continued to move his hand across the wizard's face with determination, causing Hermione to cry out a sharp, "No!" At the loud interruption, Snape jerked away from her, unconsciously shielding the child in his arms. "What?" he shouted back, quickly followed by a sharp intake of breath as Regulus tugged on the strands of Snape's hair that he had clutched in his hand.

"Sorry," Hermione whispered as she reached around her son and uncurled his fist, "He loves to pull hair right now." She smoothed Snape's hair back behind his shoulders, catching a whiff potion herbs and spice as she did so. Snape cleared his throat, "Thank you." Hermione met his eyes, shrugging in response and made her way out of the nursery.

She was already seated on the couch when Snape appeared in the doorway. Shifting the baby against his chest he made his way over and sat in the chair again. While they had been in the nursery someone, most likely Winky, had cleaned up the tea service. Hermione peeked at the man sitting across from her with her son in his lap, babbling away at him.

"How old is he?" Snape asked, without taking his eyes off his son. "Thirty weeks yesterday," she muttered, wondering how it had already been that long. Snape's brow furrowed as he finally looked up at her, "That would have been June then." His eyes glinted as he put the pieces together, "Your graduation night." Hermione nodded, "We both drank so much that night, we must have forgotten the spell." Snape smirked, in a rather Draco-like manner, "Some of us can handle our drink more than others, if you recall."

January 2, 1998

Hermione clutched the parchment the headmistress had given her, after much begging on her part, as she quietly made her way through the front gate. Taking a few steps for good measure, she cast a disillusionment charm over herself and focused her mind on the address she had been given. She took her time, she had hated appariting ever since Ron had gotten splinched while they were on the run. Once Hermione was focused, she pushed her magic out, causing a harsh sensation of being squeezed through a straw to pass over her body as she disapparated from the snowy path with a low _pop_.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione waited for the nausea to pass before she opened her eyes and looked around. She stood on the sidewalk in front a dirty, dilapidated row of brick houses. The air was heavy with fog and there was a cold drizzle that made her pull her cloak tighter to her chin. Looking along the houses her eyes landed on one toward the end of the row with a rusted 658 by the door. Glancing back at the address the headmistress had given her to confirm, she slipped it into her cloak pocket and made her way into a nearby alley to remove her disillusionment charm. Once she was no longer charmed, she made her way back out onto the street and over to the brick house. The cement under her tennis shoes falling apart as she made her way up the crumbling steps and knocked on the door, paint flakes fluttering to the ground as she did so.

The street was silent as she stood on the stoop, waiting for the door to open. After a few moments she raised her hand to knock again when she heard the crunch of gravel behind her. Whipping around, her hand wrapped around the wand in her cloak pocket, she instantly took a step back. Standing two steps below her, wearing a worn black leather jacket and carrying a brown paper shopping bag, was Snape.

The look on his face, which could easily be described as a combination of surprise, confusion, and anger, was very visible with his fine hair tied back. "Miss Granger," he snarled out, "What… are you doing at my door?" Hermione audibly gulped as she slowly loosened the grip on her wand. "I, I, I" she stammered out before steeling herself and, in a single breath saying, "I-wanted-to-thank-you-for-returning-me-to-the-castle-the-other-night." Snape raised a brow but remained stoically still on the steps. Hermione fidgeted with her cloak sleeves, then tucked her curls behind her ear. "Well…." she began but paused and took another step back, her back bumping the door behind her, as Snape took the two steps to reach the stoop Hermione stood on. She raised her chin, eyes wide and questioning, as he stood in front of her. Shifting the bag in his arms, he waved his hand at the door silently, the lock audibly clicking and the door swinging in. She stood there, unsure what to do. Snape scowled down at her, "By all means Miss. Granger," he swept through the door, "come in."

Hermione hesitantly stepped into the dim room and glanced around. The only light was coming from between the slightly parted drapes by which a threadbare wingback chair and old table sat. Panning her eyes around the room her lips parted and her eyes widened in wonder. Other than the wall that held the window, the rest of the room was lined, floor to ceiling, with bookshelves. Her fingers itched to run along the dusty spines and she craned her neck to look at the ones on the very top shelf, thick leather bound tomes that she was sure were much more expensive then _Hogwarts A History_. Taking a few steps closer to the shelves, she ran her fingertips over the books piled on the old sofa as she glanced through the volumes. Biting her lip to contain her excitement, she made mental notes of a half dozen new books to find and devour before the candles in lamp by the chair and on the sideboard flared to life, illuminating the dark room.

Hermione jerked her head up and looked toward the only doorway she had seen. There leaned Snape, still sporting the jacket, his arms crossed over his chest and his obsidian eyes watching her coveting his collection. "Oh!" she softly exclaimed as she jerked her hands back, realizing what she had been doing. Snape stared at her; his expression unreadable as he leaned against the doorframe. Moments ticked by, and Hermione was seriously regretting her presence when he finally spoke. "Who… informed you of my… residence?" Hermione wringed her hands as she glanced about the room, "Oh, um…" Snape pushed off the door jam and strode over to the petite witch standing in his sitting room. "Who?" he barked at her as he came to a halt in front of her. "The headmistress," she exhaled out, louder than she had meant to. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling as he muttered, "Damn meddling witch."

"I'm sorry?" Hermione exclaimed in indignation. Snape's eyes snapped down to hers, "Not you girl, Minerva." "Oh," she whispered, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she looked down at her feet. Snape crossed his arms again, "You have delivered your message of thanks, is there anything else I should expect from this unsolicited visit?" The blush on her cheeks deepened. "No professor," she muttered, keeping her head down as she went to step around him, toward the front door. "Must I continuously remind you that I am a professor no longer, witch?" Hermione jerked to a stop and swung to face him; she had meant to just thank him for the kindness he had showed her the night prior, but she had forgotten that it was Snape. "True, but 'no Snape' doesn't really have the same ring to it, does it, **_Sir_**?" Snape's eyebrows rose and the corner of his mouth quirked up slightly as he stared at the fuming witch. Hermione huffed and turned toward the door again, her curls bouncing across her shoulders.

"Would you join me for a cup of tea before you storm off Miss Granger?" Snape gruffly requested behind her. She stopped and slowly turned back again, anymore whirling around and she was going to get whiplash. She just stared at her previous professor, certain that she had misheard him. The dark-haired man stepped around the stunned witch and removed his jacket, hanging it on a well-positioned peg by the door, before again moving through the open doorway, deeper into the house. Hermione squeezed her hands, her nails making small crescent shaped marks on her palms, before following him. She entered a drab kitchen, with dusty cupboards and outdated tiled counters. Snape stood at the tap, filling a dented kettle.

Hermione observed the potion master, surprised to see him clad in only a white button up and black trousers, as he placed the kettle on the cooker and jabbed his wand at the space beneath the burner, causing blue flames to appear. Turning back to her, he leaned back against the counter and again crossed his arms. "Generally, guests remove their cloaks for tea," he said with an air of annoyance. Hermione looked down and realized she still work her winter cloak, her cheeks pinked as she removed her gold scarf and unclasped her cloak, laying them both over the back of a rickety chair at the battered table in the center of the room. As she smoothed the thick black fabric the kettle whistled behind her. Feeling uncomfortable, Hermione didn't want to just sit down and wait to be served but she was unsure of how to assist her previous professor. However, the decision was made for her as the surly man behind her loudly muttered, "Sit girl," as he filled a small, porcelain, ivory tea pot.

Hermione pulled back the chair and sat, rubbing her palms on the top of her jean clad thighs. A few moments later a tray with the ivory teapot, a jadeite sugar bowl, a blue patterned china creamer, two mismatched cups, and a plate of biscuits settled on the table in front of her, directed by the wizard making her nervous, who promptly sat in the chair to her left. In silence Snape, poured her a cup and placed it in front of her, motioning to the remaining items on the tray before filling the second cup. With a tiny shrug Hermione readied her own brew, adding one sugar and two splashes of milk. As she went to place the creamer back on the tray Snape held out his hand expectantly. Glancing up at his face, she met his obsidian eyes, which she now realized had been watching her ready her tea, as she handed him the milk. The dark wizard added a splash to his own cup before placing it back on the tray and selecting a chocolate biscuit from the plate. Hermione realized she was staring and dropped her gaze back to her drink, taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage in companionable silence.

Present

The air had the chill of autumn and the streetlamps were alight as Snape stepped out onto the stoop of 12 Grimmauld Place. Hermione watched him scan the street before he turned back to her. His eyes met hers before running over his son sleeping soundlessly in her arms. "I'll return in the morning, via the floo as we discussed." Hermione nodded as she hefted the baby, "Of course." Snape stared at her for a moment before raising a pale hand to brush some errant curls behind her ear. Hermione's breath hitched at the gentle touch and she unconsciously bit her plump bottom lip. Snape let out a quiet dark chuckle and ran his thumb over her lip, pulling it from between her teeth. "I thought we had broken that habit of yours," he hoarsely whispered to the petite witch. Hermione's cheeks flushed as she met his eyes, this time sparkling with hidden amusement. "Good night Serverus," she choked out. Snape abruptly dropped his hand, "Good night," and with a crack he disapparated.


End file.
